Octavia Blake (
okteiviakom) wrote in
fandomtownies2019-11-22 11:51 am
Entry tags:
The Preserve, Friday Noon
For the fourth time this week, Octavia headed into the preserve. There were two differences to all the other times, though: one, she had her sword at her back, instead of just knives and a throwing star hidden on her. (Although, rest assured, she still had those too.) And two, she wasn't alone. She'd told Duke a long while ago that she'd take him here, and now she was finally making good on that offer.
There was a shift in her demeanor as soon as the woods swallowed them up. Octavia tended to walk the streets of Fandom like she was expecting to get called upon to march to war at any moment, her stride purposeful and her posture straight to the point of being a little stiff. Here, the way she carried herself became a little more fluid, like she was adapting to the landscape, to having undergrowth with a little give under her feet instead of cobblestone.
Like she was more in her element.
Like she was breathing easier.
"Have you run into the weird deer yet?", she asked Duke as they kept making their way further into the preserve. "Sometimes some of them wander into town."
[ooc: Octavia is here with he who was lovingly modded, but the post is open for your preserve needs!]
There was a shift in her demeanor as soon as the woods swallowed them up. Octavia tended to walk the streets of Fandom like she was expecting to get called upon to march to war at any moment, her stride purposeful and her posture straight to the point of being a little stiff. Here, the way she carried herself became a little more fluid, like she was adapting to the landscape, to having undergrowth with a little give under her feet instead of cobblestone.
Like she was more in her element.
Like she was breathing easier.
"Have you run into the weird deer yet?", she asked Duke as they kept making their way further into the preserve. "Sometimes some of them wander into town."
[ooc: Octavia is here with he who was lovingly modded, but the post is open for your preserve needs!]

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Either way, they were a pretty damn well-armed pair.
"Weird deer," he said, thinking, then shook his head. "I think I've heard about them once or twice, but no, I haven't seen them yet. How weird are we talking?"
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'Teal' was not part of her vocabulary, no.
"You'd definitely know if you'd seen one."
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"Some of them also used to work for the newspaper in town."
Some of the deer, yes.
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"Of course they did. If the squirrels can do it, why not deer."
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Granted, Eddie hadn't stuck around for very long. But, deer journalists. With hooves, trying to type.
She couldn't really blame him.
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"It's nice to know I'm not the only one who's had trouble getting used to this place."
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She was keeping her eyes on their surroundings, reading them for the way she wanted to go.
"I think almost everyone has trouble, though."
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Duke actually still had a ways to go to beat him.
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He was actually really seriously considering just sticking around this place for the foreseeable future. That might be the weirdest thing yet.
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Possibly not the island, possibly the people. But she wasn't going to think too deeply about it.
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"Swear to god, if I find out this island brainwashes people, I'm going to be very unhappy." He sighed. "Or I won't, because the island would have brainwashed it out of me. . . ."
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She wouldn't know.
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Surprise, surprise: he didn't trust "happy".
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"Guess it would be a little like an anesthetic," she said. "But sometimes... Those have their uses."
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If there were, he was definitely going to wish he had his rifle.
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Neither were the teal deer, either, but at least normal deer were.
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"They're kind of big and... fuzzy?"
Octavia's little frown said she didn't really think that was an adequate description by a long shot, but it was the best she could do. She didn't really know animals very well, neither land nor sea.
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If it was an alot of bears, sure!
He reached back, checking that his gun was still in place in the back of his pants. "They're not aggressive, are they?"
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They'd met, right?
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As far as she knew, anyway. But, she stopped walking, and held her hand out in a gesture of trying to get him to stop too.
And she listened. "You hear that?" she asked, softly. "The stream."
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"Yeah," he said after a moment. ". . . Is that a good or a bad thing?"
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